


The Hunter's Painting

by AvixiLynn91



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game), Dark Souls III
Genre: Ashes of Ariandel, Bloodborne and Dark souls 3 crossover, Cunnilingus, F/M, Idiots in Love, Love/Hate, Masturbation, Oral Sex, PWP without Porn, Seduction, Sir Vilhelm crushes on Friede hard, The Hunter is the Ashen one, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvixiLynn91/pseuds/AvixiLynn91
Summary: The good hunter is swept in the Painted World of Ariandel, much to her dismay. While trying to survive the strange world she's pulled into, the charms of a certain dedicated warrior are impossible to avoid. But who's seducing who?





	The Hunter's Painting

**The Hunter’s Painting**

****

Something was terribly wrong. Gweena recalled the Amygdala sweeping her off her feet and hoisting her high above the grounds of the Cathedral Ward and Chapel. It’d held her in its large hand, but then something ominous befell the young huntress.

She hadn’t been out on the hunt for long when this bizarre event caught her by surprise.

The tall, slender woman with green eyes and pale blonde hair that seemed to be almost as white as snow had heard whispering from within the Chapel mainly from the Oedon Chapel Dweller.

The aberrant-yet friendly-man warned her that Yharnam was ‘done for’, and that she had to hurry if she wanted to save anyone else.

She’d tried to take his warning and heed the messages seriously, but the moment she’d stepped outside the Cathedral Ward chapel and inspected a body with a strange hunter’s set she’d never seen before, the presence had grabbed her and taken her away.

Of course, though she was a young thing, and very new to the hunt, Gweena wasn’t foolish. She was certain that she was to venture forth into the Hunter’s Nightmare, and she actually looked forward to it.

Maybe this was her chance to set everyone free, and her only opportunity to find some answers. Gehrman, the First Hunter refused to tell her more when she’d pushed him for details, and that would have to do for the time being.

Perhaps the old, scarred hunter didn’t need to relive the traumatic experiences the life of a hunter brought and dealt him, and she had enough respect for him to leave it be. After all, sometimes it was better to leave certain secrets in the dark of the night.

However, she wasn’t going to just cease and desist in her own search for the truth, which was why she’d accepted her fate when grabbed by the Amygdala. Though she couldn’t see it with her own eyes, she trusted that it would transport her away from Central Yharnam…

But she soon realized it hadn’t, and that was when the troubles began to mount.

When Gweena had first opened her eyes, she saw a small, dark-furred creature seated behind her in a strange, foul-smelling tunnel of sorts. Ahead of her, she could make out what appeared to be a bonfire, already lit as the flames danced towards her nose, but there was also snow, and a lot of it…

It blew about in the air, sailing high above her, and she shivered as she curled up next to the small creature.

Was she in the forbidden land of Cainhurst once again? She couldn’t be…Cainhurst didn’t look like this…

The lands were wide and vast, and it was so cold. So, so cold. She was underdressed in her Black Cainhurst armor garb and set, and she cursed herself for wearing nothing but a silly Hunter’s cap on her head instead of the Cainhurst matching helmet now, of all times. Unfortunately, it was all she had, and she kneeled next to the creature she knew was harmless.

Strangely, it began talking to her…

It muttered and mumbled about someone finishing a painting, and making it a ‘goodly home’ for someone else to take rest in…

It wasn’t a beast; it had the voice of a man.

Immediately, she felt threatened, but confused.

Old, Retired Hunter Djura had wisely told her that the beasts she hunted weren’t beasts at all; they were people. This all meant she had to be extra cautious, but she left the little creature alone and ventured out into the snowy lands.

Perhaps the Hunter’s Nightmare was different in this time? She could only hope that someone would answer her question.

Unfortunately, Gweena had barely taken twenty steps before she was under attack. She could’ve expected other hostile hunters, but when she gazed at her attackers, she found that they weren’t hunters at all...they were all wearing clothing and armor that was far older than anything found in Yharnam. Their weapons were crude, and not a single one of them carried a gun. In her panicked state, she’d dropped her own Hunter pistol, and it was lost somewhere in a pile of snow. She had to leave, as they rounded up more of their own members, and they were tracking her down quickly. Whoever these men were, they didn’t want to talk, and she learned that immediately when the first one had launched what seemed to be a spear at her.

After that, there came wolves. They howled at her, their sharp fangs visible even in the heavy blizzard she was trapped in. She was only able to fight and slaughter three of the large beasts, when a hulking monster of an old, grey wolf faced her.

She was stunned. She had expected horrifying monsters that were neither man nor wolf to come after her, much like the beasts that there witnessed and found scuttling around Old Yharnam. But the beasts found here weren’t at all the same...they were all nearly perfect...they weren’t at all experimented on by the Old Blood, as they retained and kept their physical attributes and breeds. Nothing here was out of the ordinary-beast-wise, anyway.

However, Gweena now still had a mad wolf on her hands...

This wolf was huge. It definitely seemed like something straight from the Nightmare, but she knew at this point it wasn’t…this wasn’t the Hunter’s Nightmare, and she had to survive it anyway. Just up until she could take refuge somewhere and try to study and learn about her surroundings.

But beasts and other ‘hunters’ kept pursuing her…

They were camouflaging within the snow, almost completely invisible to her until she’d passed a few by, and woken them up from a strange, frozen-like-slumber. They blew fire at her from strange torches, and she panicked as she held her Burial Blade close to her chest, vowing to protect the beloved weapon Gehrman had blessed her with for her journey. She really wished she had at least one other hunter with her in this strange world of snow and ice, but it was far too late for wishful thinking; she had to survive.

She made it through the world blindly, only stopping to rest inside a semi-warm hut of some sorts. There was a small kitchen to the right-hand side, and she found a dark cauldron, eager to set a fire and start getting warmer, when she realized she wasn’t alone.

A decrepit, old creature was seated on a small, wooden chair in the left-hand side of the kitchen, and he breathed and wheezed with difficulty when he looked at her…

He had bulgy eyes, and a bird-like appearance, but she soon determined that he wasn’t a threat to her. He was far too weak for that, and he could only sit and gape at her as his beak opened slightly…

His voice was even more frail than his emaciated, skeletal body. “Hmm, well, there’s nothing forlorn about you…” his eyes searched her carefully, but he didn’t wear many facial expressions in his animal-like state.

“You must be the other Ash, I suppose?”

Gweena had no idea what ‘Ash’ meant. As far as she was concerned, she was a Paleblood Hunter, and only in search of Paleblood, until she’d been trapped in whatever hellish world this was.

She shook her head, though she wondered if he could truly see it, “I’m not ‘Ash’…”

Apparently, her response hadn’t troubled him the least. He sat up a little, gaping at her in awe, “Ohh, ohh, finally, you’ve come! Oh wondrous Ash, grant us our wish!”

She frowned, her thin, blonde eyebrows knotted, “But I’m not—”

He was quick to interrupt, “Make the tales true, and burn this world away. My Lady must see flame, and you have only to show her. You are Ash, are you not? Is it not fire that you seek?”

This was by far a very strange, erratic, confusing world indeed. Why did this creature speak of ‘Ash’? And who was his ‘Lady’?

She assumed he meant Lady Maria, as a few other hunters and Church Dwellers often whispered about the infamous Huntress. Gweena knew Lady Maria was once Gehrman’s apprentice, and according to rumors, he’d been quite enamored and fond of her…

Perhaps this was the Hunter’s Nightmare, but it seemed pretty bastardized, to say the least.

Assuming the creature had been referring to Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Gweena took a step closer to him, “Yes,” she pressed out with eagerness, “I do seek your Ladyship! Pray tell, where can I find her?”

At least she could get this over with quickly and head back home…if possible.

He cocked his head at her as he squawked out, “Surely you’ve seen the rot that afflicts this world. But that witch fooled the good Father, and buried the flame…”

Again, she was confused.

What witch?

The last time Gweena had fought a witch, it was the twin Witches of Hemwick Charnel Lane! Was this Nightmare bleeding into the other world? If so, how?! And what did the witches have to do with Lady Maria, and who was ‘Father’?!

The only ‘Father’ she knew of was Father Gascoigne, and he was long dead! Had this creature received word of that slaughtering?

Gweena supposed so, and she listened as he carried on.

“…After we had all made up our minds, too. So, please, grant us one wish; make the tales true, and burn this world away!”

It was a deal. He didn’t even need to encourage her, and she reluctantly placed a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Consider it done.”

He sighed in relief, “My Lady must see flame, and you have only to show her.”

If Lady Maria needed the ‘flame’, she’d get it.

Gweena made her vows and promises to the strange-looking creature, and she was off within a few moments.

(****~~~****)

She’d crossed a rickety bridge that carved the way between two large mountain-like structures, a large, looming Chapel on the other side directly across from her. She’d gaped up at it, brushing the snowflakes away from her eyes as it hovered high above the clouds.

Birds circled the very top, cawing into the grey, stormy skies. It screamed ‘peril’ to Gweena’s second nature as a huntress, but she knew she had to press on if she ever wanted to free everyone of the Nightmare.

It was her only chance, but she knew she’d been terrified of heights when she clung onto the rope of the bridge, taking one-step-at-a-time cautiously. She’d gone so slowly that it’d taken her almost half an hour to make it across, but she had when she felt the icy-snowy-grounds beneath her leggings once again. How lovely it was to trade wood for Earth…

She tried hiding the fact that she was frightened, and she noticed beasts similar to the one she’d curled up next to when she’d first been pulled in this strange Nightmare…

They were all kneeling and praying or worshipping the building, perhaps? Or was it someone inside the building?

She brushed snow and water away from her long, black eyelashes, pushing the Hunter’s cap lower over the bridge of her nose to protect her face from the harsh wind that had picked up, suddenly.

Gweena shivered and trembled, making her way towards the building when she realized what it was.

It was a Chapel.

She could tell from the religious relics and decorations in the windows peeking out at her, and she had to wonder just why it was here. It looked nothing like the Cathedral Ward Chapel, and something inside her had told her things were terribly off…

Still, she ventured forward, holding her head down and closing her eyes a few times when the cold wind directly blew into them.

She was almost at the first of the few tiny steps leading to large, heavy doors that were closed off when she heard a gruff voice bark out at her.

“Well, well...you’re Lady Yuria’s Lord of Hollows.” The voice was unlike any she’d ever heard. It was a man’s voice, but it was so thick and coarse. It’d frightened her, and she’d leapt up, causing him to tilt his head at her…

No wonder she’d almost missed him the first time.

He was propped against the stone wall in the right-hand corner, wearing what appeared to be…a knight’s set???

Now she was terribly lost and confused…

And _who_ was Lady Yuria?!?! Had he meant to say ‘Maria’?? The two names sounded similar…perhaps in her cold, exhausted state, she’d misheard him??

Who was he, and why was he dressed like this?!

His armor was strong, it was black, and she could barely see his eyes peeking out at her from beneath the helm of his helmet. The chest armor was decorated with strange markings she couldn’t make out well, but it protected his chest nicely, while his long, thin legs were wrapped in leggings that no doubt weighed a ton, but were made up of iron that protected him from the cold…

He was the perfect hunter for this world, and she knew she had to fear him when he stared at her in silence.

The wind howled, and as they stared at each other, she soon made out the shiny gleams of his dark eyes, but in the extreme weather, she was unable to tell what his eye color was…though it hardly mattered, she supposed.

He grunted, “Are you hard of hearing? I asked you a question.”

And he was boorish and crude, too. Charming.

Ignoring his blatantly obvious rudeness, she hissed out, “I’m unfamiliar with this ‘Yuria’, sir…”

It had taken him by surprise, and he uncrossed his arms as he stood before her. She could tell that he was already searching for a weapon, and she took a step back. Gweena hadn’t meant to show fear and cower, but she was so very tired and cold…

He growled, “Who the devil are you, then?”

She placed a hand on her chest, “I’m Gweena!”

His head rose, and he was no doubt looking at the Burial Blade resting on her back and shoulders, then. He snorted, “I thought as much…you’re not from our world, are you?”

_Our world?!_ Wasn’t this the Hunter’s Nightmare?!!

Surely he was merely toying with her, and she didn’t take too kindly to it. She’d had her fill of games, hunting, and tormenting. If he was going to gut her, he could do so without insulting her intelligence, at least.

She shivered as her hair tickled and tingled her skin. She’d tucked and hidden it away beneath her cap, but tendrils of it had fallen down and crept their way inside and under her garb and strong armor. He saw her trembling and he snorted again.

“Yes…you’re not from around these parts…I can tell now.”

She sighed. It was better to humor him, then.  “I suppose it depends on what this world is offering me…”

He shook his head slowly, “No bell tolls, and yet, you’ve slipped into the painting?”

It was her turn to cock her head at him, “The bell?” He’d have to be a lot more specific; there were plenty of bells tolling and ringing throughout Yharnam, as well as the Chalice dungeons, even. But she’d yet to actually even see a Bell Ringing Maiden yet…

He grunted, “Ah no matter. If you’ve lost your way, the words of Lady Friede will guide you.”

Lady Friede? This was new…

Gweena had expected Lady Maria, but who was Friede?!

He stepped to the side, as if to clear a path for her, “Now, go on inside. Show respect, and listen carefully.”

She voiced her concern, and he pointed towards the doors. “Get in.”

Eager to be away from the cold, she didn’t need to be reminded or encouraged. She stood before them, and they slowly opened on their own, as if bewitched to do this…

They groaned and moaned, and they scraped along the old, frozen stone until the interior of the building was barely visible to her.

Gweena gasped when she saw a small bonfire lit in the center of the Chapel, just down a small hallway. She raced for it, throwing herself on her knees as she hissed in pleasure when the heat of the flames warmed up her cold flesh. She rubbed her palms and fingers together, almost in mockery of a prayer as she knelt before the bonfire and thanked the gods for this reprieve.

But now, she had to find out where she was…and she knew she wasn’t alone…

In the dim candlelight, Gweena saw a female figure. She was seated on a stool with a single candle burning next to her on a small, circular table.

She was also peering angrily at her…

(****~~~****)

If Gweena had been cold and trembling before, she felt even more frozen under the icy gaze of the woman sitting before her.

She was wearing no shoes or boots, and Gweena had to wonder how her skin wasn’t frostbitten. She simply folded her hands in her lap as her hooded garb covered majority of her forehead, eyes, and brow, but when she stared up at the huntress, one of her dark eyes became visible…

The flames danced behind them, but it did little to console Gweena.

She felt that somehow, this woman was a lot more dangerous than her male guardian just outside the chapel…

Her voice spoke to her, then, and it was a lot more soothing than Gweena anticipated. “Welcome. To the painted world of Ariandel…”

It didn’t seem welcoming, however, but Gweena repressed a shiver as she stood before this woman.

“I am Friede. I have long stood beside our blessed Father, and the rest of the Forlorn, but Forlorn thou seemeth not.”

There was the mention of the so-called ‘father’. He was becoming an enigmatic figure as of late, but Gweena was a little more ‘relieved’ that she’d finally learned who this woman was.

She bowed her head, remembering the knight’s advice on remaining respectful, “Lady Friede,” she started, keeping her tone of voice neutral, “Is this the Hunter’s Nightmare?”

That was when the other woman chuckled, and again, it was a soothingly strange tone. Her chest hardly rose and fell, and Gweena wondered if she was even breathing at one point.

“You’re in the wrong place, Ashen one…” she then scoffed, and it was a light, feathery sound, “that is to say… _if_ you’re even of Ash?”

Gweena felt her patience being tested. “I’m _not_ an ‘Ashen One’!”

Lady Friede hummed, “Tis confirmed for my very eyes, but pray tell, how did you end up in our Painted world?”

She honestly didn’t know. She didn’t want to lie to this woman, fearful of whether or not she would call her rude knight forth, so she merely shrugged.

“It matters not; I’m just here.”

“It matters a great deal.”

Fine. If she wanted an answer, she’d give her one.

Gweena intimated to Lady Friede about how the Amygdala and the Great Ones beckoned and swept her into the Hunter’s Nightmare. She told the woman about Gehrman, the Old Hunter’s Workshop, Lady Maria, and she even told her about a few of her hunts.

It wasn’t long before a small smile worked its way along the young woman’s face as she nodded once at the huntress.

“I see…thank you for your candor, young huntress, it shan’t be forgotten.”

Gweena rolled her eyes in response.

Lady Friede gazed outside the chapel, and the moment she did, a harsh gust of wind blew the cold air inside. Gweena hissed lightly as she shivered.

She noticed Lady Friede was eyeing her armor up and down with her one, curious eye barely visible. The longer Gweena stared at her, the more she realized her manner of dress seemed to belong to a Nun? Yes...she even had a Rosarie and the beads. Perhaps she wasn’t ‘Lady’ Friede, but ‘Sister Friede’?

She chose not to inquire, as her curiosity had already gotten her into enough trouble.

Sister Friede smiled at Gweena again, but it definitely lacked the friendliness as was present in it the first time around. If the young huntress had to wager a guess, she assumed that Sister Friede had tolerated her presence long enough, and wanted her gone.

“I know not the missteps which led thee to this painted world, but thy duty is all, and thy duty lieth elsewhere. Return from whence thou came’st.”

Well.

She could have put it in milder terms, but Gweena got the message loud and clear.

This wasn’t the Hunter’s Nightmare, and this wasn’t her world. She had no idea what was going on, as she’d seen more bird-like, ill and frail creatures stumbling about in the red-moldy snow that wasn’t exactly blood, but more like a poison that was slowly rotting and eating this world away…

Nothing made sense here, and she didn’t have the energy or patience to learn about it and understand it.

She just had to leave.

Making sure the Burial Blade was set tightly onto her back by the straps holding it together, she bowed once more, and began walking backwards towards the large doors.

Sister Friede kept her eyes on Gweena the entire time, but that was the least of her worries.

She had no idea what she was going to say to the knight standing right outside in the cold.

(****~~~****)

He’d been ready for her. He was leaning against the cold walls like when she’d first found him, and he peered at her darkly, arms still crossed over his broad chest.

“Well?”

She sighed, “I spoke to your Ladyship.” Why was she stating the obvious?! They both knew that! For some reason, whenever she was around this man, she found that he rendered her almost ‘handicapped’, in a sense…she always forgot her words, and she became slow and dull-witted. This was not good.

He growled out at her, “Lady Friede has spoken, has she not?”

She went to answer, but he was quick to interrupt, “Then tarry no longer and begone.”

How rude!!

She snarled at him, “You vile—”

He stood tall, and she just took note of how vastly they differed in height. He was almost as tall as a Pthumerian she’d seen guarding parts of the Chalice Dungeons. Somehow, this man was far worse, and she didn’t even know his name…she wanted to remember this rude knight.

She refused to back down, “Just what is your name, knight?!”

Gazing deeply into her eyes, he almost whispered, “I’m Sir Vilhelm.”

She made a mental note to think of him when she next had to pass urine, and she nearly snickered at her crude thoughts. Oh well. It served him right, anyway.

Gweena took a step back and bowed sarcastically. She did a painful mockery of a curtsy, and he snorted, as if only barely amused by it.

“Farewell then, Sir Vilhelm,” she cooed in the Plain Doll’s voice, “May you find your worth in the waking world.”

With that uttered, she turned and made her way down the small hill, as far away from the Chapel as possible.

She didn’t notice how his eyes studied her carefully, enjoying her feminine form as her hips swayed and moved about…

(****~~~****)

Gweena was lost yet again. She’d stumbled around blindly, the snow and winds violently assaulting her as she fought her way past some strange, winged, crow-like beasts. They had sharp talons and spears they threw at her, and they were more skilled than her eyes originally caught onto.

She knew she’d taken them for granted, and she cursed herself for underestimating her enemies. They’d cut her up pretty badly, and as she sped around the cowering rest of the small, bird-like creatures that were also running away from the more aggressive, larger ones, she found a small cemetery above on a hill.

She made her way for it, speeding past the danger as best as she could. She was bleeding, and as she made a beeline for the cemetery, she leapt over the gate when she found she couldn’t open it…

Locked? Of course.

It was never that easy.

But Gweena was a huntress from another world; she had powers imbued by the blood administered so long ago when she first discovered herself in the mysterious town of Yharnam…

She could do things no other man (or woman) could do, which was why she sailed above into the air perfectly, leaping over the locked gate, and landing on her feet. Unfortunately, the move she’d performed had drained her of her energy.

She heard little ‘plops’, and as she gazed down below at the white snow, she saw that the clear, pure white blankets had been tainted crimson with her own blood…

Gweena had to hide somewhere and heal.

Luckily, the crow-demons had left her alone, and they went back to hunting and tormenting the other sickly bird-like men. Gweena almost felt sorry for them. She knew that as a huntress, she often would hunt down beasts like the avian ones running about in the cold land she was currently in.

However, she was far out of her own realm, and to chase after these monsters would prove to be useless, and a fatal error on her part. She had no idea what these creatures were even capable of. Their manner of fighting style was erratic and unpredictable, and she only had seventeen blood vials with her on her journey. She had hoped more enemies would have them hidden away in their pockets, but yet again, she was far from Yharnam, and the rules here were completely different.

Thankfully, she saw another Chapel-like building right before her. There was another Church to the left in the large cemetery, but she saw that the door was bolted shut, and something told her that danger lurked beyond it.

Choosing to obey her instincts, she limped along, trailing blood in the snow as she stood before the door-less Chapel.

Was it safe?

It hardly mattered; it provided shelter, and she had to heal herself.

Gweena tore inside the building, and she was immediately assaulted with the smell of dust, old books, papers, and ash…

The interior of the building was barren, and she could see her frozen breath steaming out from between her red lips as she shivered.

She fell to the floor in a heap, tearing off the Hunter’s Cap. Her long, white-blonde hair spilled forth as she pulled it out from beneath the Cainhurst armor. She fished out a blood vial, ready to administer it with a needle as she struggled to get comfortable.

While injecting herself with the magical blood, Gweena gazed around the building.

Was it truly abandoned? She couldn’t help but feel that somehow, someone had their eyes on her, but she shrugged it off as paranoia due to being out hunting for so long. She knew she was beyond stressed, and as she gazed outside, she sighed in exhaustion.

Her body was so tense, and so sore…

Looking down at her Cainhurst leggings and belt, Gweena wondered if she indeed was truly alone…after all, it’d been so long since she’d indulged in the sins of the flesh, and obeyed her lustful, carnal nature.

She was still a virgin, but she’d explored and discovered her own body plenty of times to be more than an expert when it came to self-pleasure. She also found it worked for her even in the direst situation.

Well, this was a situation as such, and Gweena’s fingertips suddenly burned and sizzled as she thought about making herself more comfortable so she could touch herself.

Peeking outside quickly from where she was pressed against a wall beside a long, rectangular table stacked with books, she made her decision then. She could still hear the bird-like creatures wailing and crying out in terror and pain, but she drowned them all out as she tore off her Cainhurst gauntlets. They clattered down between her legs, and she gathered them to her chest as she leaned her back against the wall.

She’d unclasped her armor buckle, she’d undone the buttons of her undergarments in a hurry, and she pulled the fabric down in one smooth motion. Her hand was buried between her legs, the boots resting beneath the table as she threw her head back and sighed.

The cold air felt rather nice on her heated, damp center.

Her hair fell to her chest which still sported the armor, and she cursed herself for not removing it.

Damn the cold.

She’d wanted to play with her nipples while her hand worked her clitoris, but she soon had to stop worrying about that when she heard a deep rumble of a chuckle…

Of course she hadn’t been alone.

She opened her eyes in the darkness, and she barely made out the knight standing before her.

Sir Vilhelm chuckled again as he stared at her half-open legs, watching intently as her hand slowed down, and then stopped working its way between her legs.

She glared at him, “Get out of here.” She was beyond embarrassed, but she refused to back down. He’d tormented and mocked her enough, and she didn’t consider herself much of a ‘lady’ anymore since she’d taken up the beast hunt.

The man tsked as he shook his head, “What’s the source of this impropriety, I wonder?”

Damn him.

She snarled, “I’ve already warned you to leave!”

His eyes twinkled dangerously, “This is _my_ spot.”

“I don’t see your name carved in the walls anywhere,” she shot back with venom, and then she’d noticed that her hand had ceased moving.

Her aroused body didn’t approve, and while her cheeks pooled with a flushed heat, it was no match for the one between her legs. She was still beyond wet, and she only wanted for him to leave her to finish what she’d started. At least he could’ve granted her _that!_

But no, the cruel knight stayed right where he was, snorting as he gazed at her face, “You look as if you could use some help…”

She paused.

What?

Was he really suggesting what she thought he was?

Surely not…

Even a bastard knight such as he wouldn’t dare to…would he?

She shook her head, “I don’t think that’s—” to her own horror, her hand was moving on its own volition, circling around that sensitive little nub once again.

She hissed and moaned, her eyelids half-lidded as she gazed at his eyes.

He bent down before her, then, and began taking off his helm.

“Nooo,” she shook her head in fright, not ready for what she was going to face.

“Hush,” he ignored her protests as the helm eventually came off with a ‘click’. Gweena’s eyes opened widely, and she stared at his face, completely uncovered and open to her, now.

He had short, black hair, and a rough stubble. His face was square-shaped, and his ears were almost pointed at the tops. He had sharp cheekbones, and a very well-defined, well-chiseled face. His eyes were grey-blue, and his lips were rather pink…

She considered him attractive, then, but she wasn’t ready for what he did next.

He took off his own gauntlets, setting them down to the side as he leaned into her.

Gweena purposefully turned her head to the side, fearful of whether he was going to kiss her. When he showed no signs of doing so, she felt just the slightest bit of relief. It wasn’t long before she felt the warm pressure of his fingers sliding between her own. He nudged hers apart, and she withdrew her hand, placing it over her chest as she hissed up at him.

He looked at her the entire time, never taking his eyes off her once.

Strangely, it aroused her further, even though she was barely looking at him from her peripheral vision.

She sensed him parting her wet folds, and she gasped as her hips involuntarily bucked against his hand. This drew a deep moan from him, and he chuckled afterwards.

“Eager, are we?”

“Shut up,” she spat as she felt him circling her entrance for a while. His finger moved clockwise, and then counterclockwise, almost bored as it lazily traced her hole. She felt herself gushing against him then, and he took in a sharp breath.

“Your scent tells me you’re ripe…you’ve never had a man before, have you?”

How could he possibly tell from scent alone?!

She growled at him, “I’ve had plenty of men!”

It was an obvious lie, and he proved it as he raised a dark eyebrow at her before inserting a finger inside her.

She clawed at his forearm when he’d pressed right against her maidenhead. It was a reminder that she’d deceived him, and she shook as she wriggled backwards, only to slam and press her back against the wall. She hadn’t expected it to be that painful, but it was…

He eased the pressure off her, sliding his finger back out of her body as he traced her clitoris.

“Lie to me again, and I’ll tear it with my cock.”

She swallowed, fearful of his warning. “I never thought you were a rapist, Sir Vilhelm,” she spat with venom.

He smirked confidently at her as he worked her sensitive nub slowly. “From what I can _feel_ , it’s entirely consensual and wanted…” she moaned, her hips moving against his hand, and he laughed.

“…but then again, perhaps my sense of smell deceives me.”

“You b-bastard! Oooh!” She twitched in pleasure when he pulled her leggings completely off. She was now naked from the waist down, and feeling silly, she tried closing her legs, but his hand was still between them. Her thighs clamped down on his arm, and he snickered as he slid a second finger into her.

“Aaaahhh….” Her legs fell apart immediately, and he pushed her down softly on her back to lie beside a few books. He arranged a few until they were beneath her head, almost like a pillow, and she had to laugh at it wearily.

He raised a curious, thick eyebrow, “Amused?”

She sighed as she draped a hand over her forehead, “Never thought you were romantic.”

He hummed as his fingers gently pumped her, never straying too deeply inside her; just teasing and toying with her at the most.

“Has anyone else told you that your hair is like the snow?”

She closed her eyes as the wind blew over them, “Nooo…oooh…”

He leaned over her, placing a hand on the other side of her head as he spread her legs with his own, wedging them between them. “That’s a shame…you are quite the temptress, indeed…”

She hadn’t heard words like these before, and she didn’t want to be in over her head. He wasn’t wooing or romancing her; he was merely fucking her. That was all it was, and that was all she needed for the time being. Reading more into it would be a foolish, feminine whim, and she had no place for it in her heart. She was still a huntress, and this meant nothing-not to her, not to him.

Still, she enjoyed how he removed his hand from her, and moved down over her body as he kissed the inside of her thigh.

Watching the top of his dark head, her eyes followed his lips as he pressed open-mouth kisses to her hip, sliding his lips dangerously close to her center. Each kiss made her flesh boil, and she sighed out, “I’m not the one you want to be doing this with, am I?”

He paused in his ministrations, gazing up at her for a moment.

“Miss?”

She rolled her eyes, “I think you’re fond of Lady Friede?”

He hummed, brows furrowing deep in thought as he pressed his chin on her abdomen. “I am fond of her, yes,” he looked at her center, and she blushed, “…but I think my Lady won’t ever return my affections…”

“So you’re using me?”

He smirked, “Jealous?”

She wasn’t.

Was she?

Gweena didn’t care what this man did in his spare time. He was just a lowly knight bound to a strange woman. What did she care if they engaged in this kind of activity? A man as attractive as he was surely had plenty of lovers, even!

Trying to push away her confused thoughts and feelings, she draped her left leg over his shoulder, her heel digging into the back of his armor. She pulled him closer to her.

“I’m not jealous of you,” she spat coldly, though he was smiling as a small blush formed on his stubbly cheeks.

“…just get on with it so we don’t have to see each other ever again!!”

“As you wish, My Lady.” At once, he buried his head directly between her center, and his nose parted her folds. Since she was so wet, they easily slid apart, and she groaned in pleasure when he pressed a soft kiss to her private areas.

She loved the contrasting feeling of his rough stubble and soft lips. It sent her over the edge, and she felt him panting against her. His tongue darted out, snaking around her clitoris, as if testing how she’d react.

And she reacted in the way he wanted.

Her toes curled, and she tightened her hold around his shoulder and neck with her leg and thigh. He gently lowered her right leg to the floor when she tried placing it on his shoulder, too, and he opened her up more before himself as he planted her foot flatly onto the floor.

Her hips were already arching against his mouth, and he greedily lapped at her flesh. Massaging and groping the calf of her left leg, he felt his way up the long, strong bone, humming deeply against her. It caused a weird-yet-delectable-vibration along the lower half of her body, and Gweena’s hands immediately went backwards to find her clasps of her chest-armor.

She’d unhooked them quickly, and the armor clattered and fell to the wooden floor. She shoved it to the side, unwrapping her cotton bindings that kept her luscious breasts tightly bound to her chest.

The round mounds of flesh jiggled and bounced in the air once they were freed, and she immediately sought out her nipples. She tugged and pinched them, and Sir Vilhelm paused, gazing up at the sight before him.

Her head was thrown back, and her small, thin fingers were plucking at the hardened nipples as if she were plucking the most beauty harp strings. She sighed and moaned, and it was an orchestra to his ears. He was soon equally as aroused as she was, and he smiled when he went back to kissing her thighs.

“You know,” he stated, midway between delivering another kiss, “I felt drawn to you the moment I saw you…”

She hissed, her hips ramming against his lips, but he pressed a strong hand against her abdomen, holding her down.

“You emerged from the snow as if you were born and created in it, and I couldn’t get your face out of my mind and eyes…”

He suckled her wet lips down there, and she cried out as she pressed a free hand against her clitoris.

“Please!!”

He smiled as he gently pushed her hand out of the way, “I immediately forgot about my Lady right then, and I must admit,” he kissed her parted legs, “I had to pleasure myself the moment after you left…”

Somehow, the image of him touching himself drove her even more crazy. She desperately cupped her breasts, and she felt his free hand slide up along her flat, toned stomach before cupping one breast at a time. He gave them both a firm squeeze before he licked a long, slow path from her back entrance all the way to top of her clitoris.

Feeling both sensitive areas slicked with his saliva, she screamed out.

It wasn’t going to be long before she released her pleasure all over, and she tried holding back on it as his tongue dove between her folds again.

He hungrily drank up her juices, and the wet sounds his tongue made whenever it slapped against her flesh was obscene. It spurred her on further, and she dug a hand into his thick hair, gently massaging his scalp as she encouraged him to dig his tongue into her.

His tongue had a lot of give, and it gently pried her open as it slid deeply inside her. He flickered it slowly, taking his time to form a motion that slid back and forth, in and out as he watched her massage her breasts.

The flesh there was beyond pink at this point, but she seemed to be unable to stop.

He felt his cock twitching, and it wasn’t going to be long before he came with her…

He felt her tightening up around him, and then, her walls clamped down on his tongue. He knew it was time to get her ultimate attention, and his fingers replaced his tongue as he licked away at her clitoris.

Sir Vilhelm’s skilled fingers pumped inside her a few times, the rhythm off and very rough, but she didn’t mind as she felt her heart about to explode from her ribcage. His fingers flew back and forth inside her, and his tongue traced random shapes and patterns over her sensitive peak.

Soon, Gweena came with a loud, feminine cry, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck as she held on for dear life while her vision went black.

Hearing her cry out like that was his undoing.

He exploded in his own release a second after she coated his tongue with a sweet, honey-like essence, and he drank it up eagerly while he groaned heavily. His hips slammed against the rough, cold floors, and he knew he was gyrating against the floor as if he was making love to it.

Still, he thought about making love to her, and he relished in what it would feel like once he sunk himself deeply inside her…

He let out another groan as he circled her pink nub with his fingers after he’d gently pulled them out of her.

While stroking her slowly to get her to come down from her post-orgasmic high, he couldn’t help himself when he looked at her pink cheeks and swollen lips.

She’d bitten them to stop from crying out, and she was bleeding from the center of them…

Unable to control himself, he leaned up over her, and captured her mouth with his own.

Gweena sighed into his mouth. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue as the members slid around her mouth, but she didn’t mind it. The coppery taste of her own blood mixed with arousal drove her crazy, and she kissed him back softly and lazily while his fingers stopped moving between her flesh.

She was throbbing from the pleasure, and her mind was dizzy and numb.

She’d never experienced anything like this, but she drew out her pleasure as she licked his lower lip.

When she’d done that, Sir Vilhelm made his mind up right there.

Breaking the kiss much to their dismay and displeasure, he gazed down at her as he cupped her chin in a strong hand.

Still blushing, she looked away from her, trying to stubbornly turn her head to the side. He didn’t allow it, and he gently pushed her cheek to the side as he fought to make her face him.

“Please look at me…”

She sighed, closing her eyes as her heartrate increased once again. “I can’t!”

“Please…”

A minute or two etched by between them before Gweena summoned the courage to look into his eyes. She was surprised he’d waited for to compose herself, but he had. She was met with a warm smile when she gazed at the blue-grey depths, and she found herself smiling back.

Her nipples were still hard and sensitive, but it was now from the cold.

Shivering, she swallowed in shyness, “What is it?”

She couldn’t bear the silence any longer, but thankfully, he broke it.

Biting his lower lip, he traced her lips with a thumb, and then began caressing and stroking her cheeks, “Will you become my wife?”

Gweena’s heart skipped a few beats.

What?!

Slapping his hand away from her cheek, she glared at him, “Don’t mock me, Sir!!” She turned, collecting her armor to her chest, and she turned her back to him as she tried to bind her breasts again.

“I’m not a toy or a fool!”

He shook his head, pressing a warm hand against her naked back, but she growled.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Listen to me!”

She hissed, but he wove a hand around her neck, gently stroking her flesh there. The minute his large hand curled around her thin neck, she practically swooned.

“What’re you doing to me?!” Her whined question seemed to also have been on his mind, as well.

They were _both_ changed. They’d fought and trained hard, displaying loyalty and honor to the masters they’d served, but now, they didn’t seem to want to return back to those masters…they were both hesitant, and they were second guessing what they had to do.

What was this?

Why weren’t they fighting? Why weren’t they slaughtering each other mindlessly?

Gweena felt her eyes burning with tears when he stroked her and cradled her to his chest.

“Please, marry me.” It wasn’t a question; it was an order disguised as a request, and she knew him long enough to read between the lines and tones.

She shook her head as she sobbed, “I can’t!!”

“Why not?”

“You don’t even know m-my name!!”

Hadn’t it just been sex only?! Surely he didn’t remember her, and while she’d called his name out multiple times, he’d never once referred to her by her name…

She’d never felt so used and sullied before, but then when she had made her mind to get away from him, he whispered out, “Marry me, Gweena.”

Like a child, she broke down in tears. She clutched at his chest, burying her face in his strong sternum. She never wished to be apart from him again, but she didn’t know how to express this, and she only was able to cry out in joy.

He held her to him as he kissed the top of her head, “When you defeat Lady Friede, only then will we both be freed of this miserable, painted world, and then we can be together.”

She struggled with this thought, still not understanding the laws and rules of this world. She sniffled, her crystal-like tears falling as they practically froze in the cold air around them. 

“I d-don’t understand!!” She closed her eyes as she rubbed her cheek against his cold armor, and he hushed and placated her, his warm fingers running through her soft, blonde locks as he kissed the tip of her nose when he pulled back to look at her.

His eyes seemed sincere, and all the emotions pouring from them convinced her enough. The last of her worries had left her, and she rested her forehead against the bottom of his chin as he sighed into her hair.

“I’m fed up with being a mere tool for my Lady,” he announced earnestly as he wrapped a few of her strands around his fingers, “I’ve known obsession, and I foolishly confused it for love for so many long moons…until I met you…”

He loved her.

She knew it, then, and she returned his affections. She gasped as she clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting off her excited and joyful cries.

Somehow, she knew this had to happen. From the moment she first looked at the strange, mysterious woman in the chapel, she knew that the power was in her hands alone. Gweena would kill Sister Friede, and that would be her last, and final hunt. 

Looking up at him, she felt him wipe away her tears as he kissed her forehead.

“Marry me?”

Now it was a question, and she nodded.

“Of course I will marry you.”

He kissed her lips eager, and she returned the gesture, peppering soft kisses along his lips and chin before moving up to his cheeks.

“We’ll defeat her together, Gweena,” he whispered as he held her tightly and protectively, “then we can leave, together.”

“Together.”

She’d come all this way to kill Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower and free the hunters trapped in the Hunter’s Nightmare from the secrets that bound them to that hellish purgatory. She’d vowed to serve Old Hunter Gehrman in this way, but instead, she’d fallen in love…

Perhaps she could still kill a ‘Lady’ after all, however, and she felt comforted by this.

She smiled as he held her to him late into the night, making love to her gently for hours after they’d exchanged their wedding vows.

Her fate was sealed, and they were now bound together by blood, and by soul.

She was never going to see Yharnam again, but for once, Gweena found she didn’t want to. She no longer needed the old town of Yharnam to look forward to when she completed her quest and her duty.

She’d made herself a goodly home.


End file.
